


Cornerstones

by dragonswithjetpacks



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angry Couple, Beatrice Cousland, F/M, Making Up, One Shot, after the death of isolde, angsty alistair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 08:38:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonswithjetpacks/pseuds/dragonswithjetpacks
Summary: Arl Eamon is dying. Lady Isolde is dead. Conner is traumatized. Redcliffe is all but destroyed. And Alistair finds himself unable to control his anger about it all. Knowing there isn't any one thing to place blame on, he still finds himself lashing out at the people closest to him. However, Beatrice is not one to tolerate such behavior.





	Cornerstones

The tension between Beatrice and Alistair left little room for anything else. No one felt comfortable even breathing, let alone speaking, which resulted in a very quiet trip back to their main camp where Sten kept watch. Luckily he was always quiet. So he did not question their visit to the castle. He did not even welcome them back. He only nodded as they entered his sight with a slight grunt. Everyone went their separate ways, including Fang who quickly found a stick to destroy to occupy his time.

Beatrice went to her tent, reaching in for her pack and looking for blankets to create a cot. She was beyond tired. She was mentally and physically exhausted. And she did not care if the sun had not set just yet, she wanted to at least try to get some rest. Alistair was not far away, as they had agreed they would sleep close to each other. His tend was next to hers and she could not help but notice his constant glances in her direction. She felt guilty enough for what had happened. But she knew the discussion she would have to have. She did just had not expected it to come soon.

"Now that we're back at the camp, I want to talk about what happened... at Redcliffe," he stated while standing over her tent.

"Alistair, I am... I am not sure I would like to discuss anything as of right now."

"I don't think this can wait," he demanded.

With a sigh, she lifted herself to speak with him, a tireless look within her eyes. "By all means, then. Speak your mind."

And it was apparent he did not care if she was ready for his outburst not. As soon as he had her attention and she gave him permission to speak aloud, he held nothing back. He had maintained such a calm expression the entire way back. Sure, his brow was furrowed in thought. But he was quiet and above all, courteous. It came as a complete shock when his chest rose and his voice boom. It was as if it was the most passionate thing he had ever spoken about.

"You let Lady Isolde sacrifice herself... with blood magic! How could you do that?" he shouted at her.

She was not prepared for his anger. But it was strong and it was fierce. Her overwhelming sensation of becoming tired had suddenly vanished. With Alisitair directing words violently toward her, especially in front of everyone at camp, she had become very aware. Her eyes fell over her companions first, seeing Sten turn away in order to avoid eavesdropping, to Leliana wrinkling her nose at Alistair's poor conduct, and then Morrigan, lifting her chin to hear their words more clearly. A sudden rush of adrenaline overcame her and she was forced to respond in a similar manner.

"You will not shout at me like this not-"

"Oh, I am shouting, Beatrice," he would not back down. "Lady Isolde deserved better. The Arl deserved better." 

"What would you have me do, then?" she spat back at him, her height rising on the tips of her toes in an attempt to reach his.

"We could have gone to the Circle of Magi. We... we could have tried harder. We should have tried something that didn't involve blood magic. That's for sure," he threw his hands into the air, making her jump backward. He lowered them, cradling his skull in the palms of is hands. "This is the Arl's son we are talking about, here. What do you think he'll say when we revive him?"

"If the answer was that simple, don't you think I would have done that? We can't deny help where it is given. Not right now. And I would hope he would understand what we have done... the difficulties we have gone through."

"You think he would understand you were in favor of murdering his wife?'

"You think I wanted to sacrifice Isolde? And what, kill the boy instead? Word has spread that the Circle in Ferelden is currently on lock down. I would not sacrifice any of you or risk leaving Redcliffe for such a quest. And last I checked, you were the one that gave up authority to allow me to make such decisions. If you don't like it then... then perhaps you should act like the junior member of the order for once. "

She looked him directly in the eye and knew he could not do the same. In complete disbelief, she shook her head and lowered herself. As she stormed off without another word, he could not determine whether it was the piercing words or the bitter regret that caused him to remain so still, completely frozen as his head replayed through what she had just spoken. He turned his head, stretching his jaw from clenching it so tightly. The last he could make out, Beatrice was lifting the flap of her tent, briefly peering over her should at him before disappearing inside.

* * *

It had been a long and awkward journey to Denerim, but they had finally made it. Beatrice had not seen it for quite some time. And if she were in a better mood, perhaps she would have enjoyed it more. But as she was still sour from a few nights ago after Alistair's outburst and the silent walk this far up north, she wanted nothing more but a comfortable inn she hoped the good city would provide. She did not waste time speaking with merchants or chatting with locals. She strolled straight through the streets until she found an inn that suited their needs. A place tucked away. Not a hovel, but most certainly not a place that would attract too much attention. Some of her companions had decided not to go with her into the city, for obvious reason. But the others were rather excited about a pillow to sleep on that night. Alistair was one of them...

She rented two rooms for herself, Leliana, and Alistair. To cut costs, Leliana had insisted on sharing a room with Beatrice. It worked well because Beatrice had a difficult time sleeping alone. And considering Alistair had been there before, she still refused to speak with him. As a matter of fact, she had not slept in several days. Upon entering the room, she toppled onto the bed in front of her.

"You should get some rest," Leliana smiled.

"I have to get this armor off first," Beatrice sighed. "But I've already gotten so comfortable."

"I'll leave you to it, then," she giggled. "I'm going to have a look at the market for a bit. See if I can't find anything to eat."

"Sounds fantastic," Bea grumbled.

As Leliana left, Beatrice rolled onto her back. If the room stayed this quiet for the rest of the night, she could easily fall asleep. Even in armor. Even if Fang snored. But the thought of being alone was slightly disturbing to her. If she were to nap now, this was the first time she would room by herself. She wouldn't have anyone sleeping on the floor. Or next to her. Or nearby. Oddly, she began to miss her tent and her campfire. Just when she was talking herself into enjoying privacy, there was a knock at the door. 

With a grumbling sigh, she went to open it. Though, when she did, she wanted to shut it back and lock the bolt. A nervous Alistair stood in front of her, his face pointed down. He shot his gaze up when he saw the door open but he did not say anything. Without giving him a second chance, she went to close the door before he discovered his courage. Unfortunately, his reflexes were quicker than his wit. His hand, still in its gauntlet, grabbed the edge of the door.

"Wait," Alistair said firmly. "At least give me a chance."

Her eyes looked warningly down his hand which cause him to slowly remove it. She stopped herself rushing him off so quickly, relaxing her push and allowing the crack to open wider.

"If you don't mind, I would prefer to discuss this with you behind closed doors."

Beatrice blinked disbelievingly. He had dared to embarrass her in front of the entire camp. He called her out in front of their companions. He shouted at her. No man had ever gotten away with doing such a thing. Not that Alistair did. He most certainly paid the price for insulting her. But that did not exempt him from her wrath over the last few days. And it most certainly did not mean she would be fair to him now. However, there was not a single thought that ventured through her head of continuing her journey without him. 

"Fine," Beatrice growled.

She stepped aside to let Alistair in, quickly shutting the door behind him. She crossed her arms while standing in front of the door. 

"I wanted to apologize," he said. "I shouldn't have been so angry with you the other night. You... you were right."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well... yes," he raised his brow and nodded vigorously. "Yes it is."

"Alistair, that isn't how this works," she shook her head. "You're only apologizing because you feel guilty and you feel like you have to in order to make me feel better."

"That's.... that's true. But there is still meaning behind it."

Beatrice walked over to her bedside, remaining completely silent but keeping her eyes on Alistair as he became fidgety in the middle of the room. She rested herself on its edge, rubbing her hands on her thighs and squeezing them as if it was going to help ease the tension.

"Talk to me," she said calmly. "And do it without your head up your arse this time."

He began to pace the wooden floor. He would not even look at her. She could tell by the look on his face that he was concentrating entirely on the conversation they were about to have. Either he was hesitating entirely too much or he could not decide how he would begin. More than likely, it was both. And every five seconds, he was changing his mind.

"i just," he began but paused. It was too late, though. And he just continued. "I just don't know how you could do it. How you could make that decision. I owe the Arl more than this."

"You think I could have done something better?"

"No..." he said angrily. "Well... maybe but I don't know," both his hands went through his hair. "I suppose it's done, isn't it?"

He looked at her regretfully after he questioned himself. His pacing had stopped and he stood just a few feet away from her. There was nothing for him to lean on. Or sit on. And it was apparent he didn't know what to do with his hands as he ran his thumb over his knuckles. The silence Beatrice gave him as a response wasn't helping. She wanted him to suffer. Even if it was making him go through an awkward interaction with a close companion. 

"It will have to be enough," he finally said softly. "Maybe I shouldn't be second guessing you like this. It's easy to question when you're not the one making the decisions. And I've let you do just that, haven't I?"

There was not one word of the argument Beatrice had forgotten. And it was quite clear Alistair had not forgotten, either. She remembered Lothering and how he had confessed he was not comfortable leading the party. She remembered how Morrigan teased him. She remembered defending him. 

"I still value your opinion, Alistair."

"Aaaah, why am I getting on your back about it? You did what you had to. Its just... all this death," his voice trailed "Never mind. Let's just stop there before I sound like an idiot."

Beatrice felt the corner of her mouth curl. "Alistair," she began and hesitated only a moment. "I can't do this without you."

He looked down at her, her eyes shimmering in the light of the lantern at the bedside table. Her face still stained with dirt from the trip. 

"You don't have to worry about me anymore," he sighed. "I'll be sure to contain myself in the future."

He watched her eyes lower to the floor as she bit her bottom lip. "I'm... I'm sorry I yelled at you like. I don't know what came over me. You had a reason to be upset and I should have handled it better."

When her eyes rose to meet his, she felt herself blush. For what reason, she did not know. And as he watched the flush of red form across her nose and cheeks, he responded the very same way. He sucked in a quick breath through his nose and felt his shoulders tense. Maker, the way she was looking at him. It wasn't fair.

"Oh, it's quite alright," he found himself laughing. "I had it coming, anyway."


End file.
